


The Best Christmas Ever

by ChiaraRose



Category: The Trixie Belden Mysteries - Julie Campbell Tatham & Kathryn Kenny
Genre: Christmas, Coming Out, F/F, M/M, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-23 21:42:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13199121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChiaraRose/pseuds/ChiaraRose
Summary: The Bob-Whites of the 1940s knew what their futures would be: they would marry someone of the opposite sex, maybe another Bob-White, and have children (besides their dreams of becoming detectives, doctor, school administrator, policeman, and so on). Moving the Bob-Whites to the current time means they all would have more choices and more room to explore. This story is a one-off imagining of what kinds of choices they might face.





	The Best Christmas Ever

It was going to be the best Christmas ever, Honey Wheeler thought as she stepped into her favorite New York Italian restaurant. She took a deep breath, the better to appreciate the spices and tomato scents, as she shed her winter wear into Mario’s arms while his uncle Giovanni called loud greetings coupled with scoldings for being away so long.

“But we do not forget you, eh? Mr. Brian is already at your favorite table, and we are bringing your favorite sparkling wine, perhaps for a special occasion?

By this time they were traversing the candle-lit dining room, with the string trio processing Christmas carols into rich, classical music. So Honey just smiled to agree that it was a special occasion.

She hadn’t heard from Brian in many months and hadn’t seen him for even longer, what with his final push towards becoming a doctor. He’d warned her, but she’d still been surprised at hearing nothing for so long.

And there he was, standing by their favorite table, always vacant because no one else wanted to sit by the kitchen, where they could inhale the aromas and have as much privacy as possible in the crowded restaurant. The sight of Brian, his usual lock of wavy black hair falling over his forehead, warmed her heart. She held out her hands to him. He kissed each one and then her cheek as he guided her to her chair.

“I have so much to tell you!” she exclaimed.

At this point, the waiter brought their wine and took their order. Brian went with his favorite gnocchi, but Honey decided to try the special, a new way of making Chicken Marsala. Their eyes met and Brian asked for a side plate so that they could share each other’s food, just like they’d always done.

“You look great, Honey,” he said as they settled themselves. “That dress really brings out the green in your eyes.”

Honey smoothed the flared skirt with satisfaction before dropping the cloth napkin over it. “Thanks. That’s what Di said when we were shopping. So of course I bought it and all the accessories she suggested. No one knows better than Di what looks good on people.”

“Do you see much of her? I feel like Bob-Whites are going their separate ways. I haven’t seen even Mart and Trixie in months besides Thanksgiving, and I had to work most of that weekend so I barely had time to eat dinner.”

“Oh yes. Di, Trixie, and I are having lunch tomorrow. And surely we’ll see each other at Christmas, but I’m so glad we’re getting this chance how.” Honey picked up her wine glass. “I have so much to tell you, but tell me your news first. Giovanni hinted about a special occasion.”

“I hope so.” Brian picked up his glass and tilted it towards hers. “Honey, will you marry me?”

Honey gasped and clutched the stem of her glass, almost sloshing the wine on the table.

The waiter arrived with an antipasto tray. Honey stared at it with revulsion as she collected her thoughts into complete sentences. No Honey-speak here, she scolded herself. She took a deep breath and blurted, “Brian, I can’t marry you. I’m gay. A lesbian, I mean. You know.”

He turned pale as the tablecloth and ducked his head, making his wavy hair flow like the surf. With one spastic movement, he crushed the breadstick he held in one hand. 

Honey resisted the urge to sweep up the crumbs. She felt her throat closing. Their silence was deafening amidst the raucous celebration of the other diners and musicians. She whispered, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you still…I’d never want to hurt you…It’s been so long…” Resentment twisted her heart. How dare he stay away for so many months when he was still planning marriage?

He looked down, abashed, and swept the breadcrumbs into his hand. “I know it’s been awhile. The thing is, Honey, I’m gay too, and I didn’t know if I could marry a woman.”

“I should think not!” Honey’s head swam. Trying to stay upright, she clutched the seat of her chair.

“But, Honey, gay or not, I do love you, and I think we could have a good marriage, especially if you’re gay too.” His expression darkened. “Were you faking it?”

“No. Were you?” Honey retorted.

Brian tried to smile. “Of course not. It was very nice, Honey. Really. You’re the only woman I could ever think about marrying.”

“I’m so flattered.” Honey could hear the edge in her voice. 

“Don’t you want to have children? Aren’t your parents hoping for grandchildren? Mine are.”

Honey had to blink her eyes again to clear the tears. “If this were the 1950s, I’d marry you in an instant. I’d probably never figure out my sexuality, and if I did, I’d still think marriage to you was my best option. But in the twenty-first century, we can love and marry who we like, and we can still have children.”

“Life is still dangerous when you’re different. Do you want your children to grow up with that? Honey, I still think we could have a very nice life together. We could give our children the traditional kind of upbringing we had in Sleepyside.” His voice took on a pleading tone. 

“Brian, we were always the nice kids. Don’t we deserve more than niceness? I’ve never noticed that any of our parents were unhappy with their lives. My mother could have been, but she carved out a place for herself as Daddy’s assistant, and she did so much charity work that made my life and others’ better, even if she wasn’t playing Barbies with me. I’ll be a different kind of mother, but I’m glad she had the choice to do what she could and that your mother did too. Two unhappy parents won’t make a happy child. I think we’d do more good for our children—and our families—if we showed them who we are and how to be happy that way.” Suddenly aware that her voice was getting louder, Honey looked around to see if anyone was listening. She blushed when a busboy clearing the next table gave her a thumbs-up.

Brian’s face twisted in agony. “But I’m the eldest. I’ve always been expected to set an example. How can I let everyone down?”

“Brian Belden, how can the way you were born let anyone down, like it was a flaw, or something you caused? You could help them by coming out. Even if your parents wouldn’t accept you, you might help—well, probably not Mart or Trixie—Bobby, for instance, if he’s gay. He’d be miserable in high school, right? He could look to you to help him, if he knew.”

Expressions flitted across Brian’s face like a fast-forwarded film. “What did your family say when you told them?”

Honey looked down. “Well, I haven’t. I’m going to the day after Christmas. I haven’t known for very long, not really.”

“That’s very brave of you.” 

Honey looked up to see if he was choking, so constricted his voice sounded. She couldn’t help grimacing. “I’m not that brave. My trust fund kicked in when I turned twenty-one. I’m a nurse and I’ll soon be a physician’s assistant; so I’ll always be able to get a job. And Daddy just signed the Manor House over to me; he and Mother are moving back to New York City. So unlike the poor teenagers whose parents threw them out of their homes to live on the streets, all I’m risking is my parents’ and brother’s love, and I’m sure of both. Pretty sure. Mostly.”

Brian’s smile was lopsided. “It’s that ‘mostly’ that’s so hard, isn’t it?”

“It is, but I’ve reached the point where knowing will be better than not knowing. And maybe I can convince Jim to look for those homeless teenagers and admit them to his school. Maybe he’d be more aware of them, because of me.”

“Jim’s always been such a straight arrow, in every way.”

She lifted the corners of her mouth at his joke. “That’s true, but his heart is full of love and compassion. He’s not some rigid, sanctimonious moralist. I think—I’m almost sure—he’ll still love me.” Honey watched as Brian’s expression fell sadder and sadder. She reached across the table and took both his hands. “Brian, let’s get to the bottom of this. Why are you trying to build a closet for both of us?”

Brian looked directly into her eyes for the first time that evening. Tears glistened. They grew into bulbs and rolled down his cheeks, but still he could say nothing until the arrival of their entrées, when Honey had to release his hands. The plates clattering in front of them broke the spell, and all he could say, or wail, was, “Oh, Honey!”

***

Honey stumbled through the front door of her apartment. Even though the room glowed in its eery low night lights, she banged into the umbrella stand. She swore under the clatter and jumped to the left, landing on a cat’s tail—Ballerina, by the hurt, angry wail and the fact that she wasn’t smart enough to get out of the way. Honey hung her coat and purse, which fell off their hooks and hit the floor with a splat much too close to Ballerina, who finally scampered away with a shriek.

The cat, still a clumsy teenager, ran into the pile of stacked presents and scattered them. It sounded like a garbage truck to Honey. She fled across the room to pick up the crying Ballerina and kicked a few more presents in the process.

“Sh, sh,” she whispered, both to comfort and to quieten. 

But on the far side of the spacious efficiency—tastefully appointed in subtle grays and blues by D Lynch Designs—a tousled black mop of hair stuck out from the puffy orchid comforter (one of the surprising pops of color) and pile of blankets on the bed. Even in the low light, Honey could see sleepy violet eyes blinking.

“Honey? Whatever is it?” Diana mumbled in a sleep-thickened voice. 

Honey limped to the bed, still cradling Ballerina. “Just this dim beast my mother gave me, like I wanted a purebred anything. And I think I broke my toe on your sisters’ X-box.” She released the offended Ballerina, who groomed her long silky gold fur. Tangerine,  the marbled tabby cat that they’d rescued from the street as a kitten, smirked and yawned to emphasize that intelligent cats stayed on the warmest place in the house.

“What time is it? How much did you have to drink?” asked Diana as she unzipped Honey’s dress while Honey struggled to kick off her short boots.

“Two,” muttered Honey as the dress went over her head. She tripped over a boot as she edged to the closet to hang up the dress.

“Two glasses of wine did this to you? “exclaimed Diana as she shoved the two cats aside to make room in bed for Honey.

“Bottles. It might have been more,” admitted Honey. “Brr. I need a nightgown.”

“I put the flannel sheets on the the bed and an extra microfiber blanket. Get the rest of this stuff off and I’ll keep you warm. What were you doing until two in the morning? Oh, you _are_ cold,” said Diana as she wrapped blankets and arms around the shivering Honey.

“We walked around after Giovanni wanted to close up.” Honey tried to stifle her sobs, then gave up. She laid her head on Diana’s shoulder and let tears flow. “Oh, Di. He asked me to marry him and I said I was gay and he said he was too but we should get married anyway, for the sake of our families and children and I said no but I’d have children with him.” She sobbed louder. The cats exchanged looks and took themselves to the other side of the bed.

Diana rocked her gently. “You know, I’m fluent in Honey-speak, and I think I understand everything you said, but I don’t understand why you’re crying. I mean, Brian would be a better choice for a father than specimen A14325 from the sperm bank. Sure, the proposal was awkward, but I don’t know what he’s thinking about, if he’s gay.” She wiped Honey’s cheeks with an edge of the lavender-rose sheets. 

Honey reached for a tissue on the nightstand to blow her nose. After a few honks, she said, “These months with you have been heaven. But in my mind there was another time line, a parallel one, where Good Honey did everything her parents wanted and married Nice Doctor Brian and had 2.5 children to gladden their grandparents’ hearts. And I just slammed and bolted the door on that path forever. Maybe I thought I’d wake up some morning and like guys.”

“YMMV, but that didn’t happen for me, and I spent the first two years of college trying to make it so.” Diana’s violet eyes looked bleak and gray.

Honey blew her nose again and grabbed another tissue. “I was so sorry you didn’t go to the same school that Trixie and I did. But of course you wanted the better art school.”

Diana pulled a couple of pillows behind her and leaned back. Her delicate features looked hard as steel. “Well, yes, but mostly I couldn’t stand to make any more excuses not to share rooms or travel with you and Trixie. I knew I was different early on. I was so glad you and Trixie set my strangeness down to my father’s sudden riches.” 

Honey hugged her long-time friend. “Poor Di! And I tried so hard to include you and not always share a room with Trixie.”

Diana kissed Honey’s forehead. “Of course you did, because you’re sweet, darling Honey. And so I had to get away. But instead of being the lesbian my heart knew that I was, I slept with every guy who was interested in me, thinking either that I’d prove or make myself straight—with no success at all.”

“Well, really, how could you tell with a bunch of stupid frat boys?” Honey wrinkled her nose. 

“Really. So I started on the teachers. Fortunately I enrolled in statistics, which saved me.”

Honey mulled over that statement. “Why?”

“Because I wanted a minor in business so I wouldn’t be just another starving artist.”

“I mean, how did statistics save you?”

“It showed me that with as large a sample as I had, certainly there should have been times I didn’t have to get drunk to endure sex.” Diana turned away and threw threw the covers off her long legs, shoving the subject aside at the same time. “But tell me about Brian. I’m going to make you some hot cocoa. You’re still cold.” She slithered out of bed, into a fluffy short robe and slippers. She padded to the kitchenette that was somehow big enough for anything she and Honey wanted to prepare.

Honey admired Diana’s legs as she pulled her own knees close to her chest and hugged them. “You remember Ed Hall? From our Cobbett’s Island adventure? He mentored Brian through medical school, and one thing led to another…”

“As it does,” said Diana as she stirred the cocoa.

“Last year they started living together. Remember Brian told me he wouldn’t be in touch for awhile because this last residency was the hardest?”

Diana snorted, and the microwave dinged.

“Yes, really. And last summer they went to Florida to visit Ed’s friends, who were going to take them to this swell gay club, but Brian didn’t feel good—Mexican food is a lot different there than in New York. So he and Ed stayed home and walked on the beach while the others went to the club. Oh, Di, remember the shooting? All those people dying? If not for the spicy enchiladas, Brian and Ed might have been shot too! When they heard, they went to the club to help, but all they could do was to identify the body of one of their friends, and things were never the same after that. And this week Ed said he was going home for Christmas and would look up his high school sweetheart, because it wasn’t like he hated women, and it would be the best thing for both of them if they could be straight. So Brian said he would too.”

Handing the hot mug to Honey, who warmed her hands on it, Diana said, “I know that compared to Brian, my IQ is in the negative numbers, but that’s the stupidest thing I ever heard of.”

After blowing the cocoa, Honey took a sip. “Isn’t it?”

“He always did set off my gaydar. As soon as I developed one, anyway.” Diana put a hand over her mouth to hide bubbling laughter. When she had swallowed it, she said, with the ghost of a giggle. “But I just can’t see Brian prancing in the Pride parade in a thong.”

Honey reached for her phone and pulled up the photos. She handed it to Diana, who made a strangled noise.

Honey explained, “He texted me a bunch of pictures. It was like he was dying to show someone his life. That’s a Pride parade photo. He’s a phoenix, you see, rising out of the flames. That’s what that low-riding red feather skirt is, the flames.”

Diana gasped, “Rising. Yes. He needs more feathers.”

“I think the gold straps and rainbow wings are a nice touch. You can see Ed in the back on the right. And here’s one of them singing in the Pride choir. Here’s one with their dog.”

“Hm.” Diana swiped back to the first photo. “He looks so…I don’t know…so happy. Now I know what I’m giving him for Christmas. I’m going to paint him in his phoenix costume.”

She scooted to her side of the bed and reached for her sketchbook. 

Honey pleaded, “Di, don’t start sketching now. You’ll be up half the night, and we both have things to do before our lunch with Trixie. Oh, I almost forgot!” 

She straightened out her legs in a snap, knocking the beautiful Ballerina to the floor. Tangerine leapt nimbly to one side, with a smirk on his striped face. Ballerina lay on the floor looking outraged and hurt. She didn’t know that cats were supposed to land on their feet. Honey sighed, impatient.

Diana picked up Ballerina and cuddled her. “You know, Honey. I think Ballie’s just as much of a rescue as Tangey. Who would put up with her besides us? She reminds me of me growing up, dumb as a rock, mixing up words, when I could remember them at all. I keep telling her she’ll grow into her own talents and be awesome someday.”

Honey’s hand flew out to stroke both Diana and Ballerina. “Oh, Di! I never thought you were dumb. Lots of people mix up words. Even Mart. But nobody teased him, of course.” 

“And you always defended me, of course. Kids tease, the bastards. Our kids are going to know it’s not right.”

“Of course. Tangerine does enjoy playing with Ballerina, even if it is like a chew toy,” acknowledged Honey, stroking the sleek, silky fur. “And she is beautiful. I’m sure she’s a perfect Balinese. Mother wouldn’t have bought anything else.”

“We’ll give a donation to the SPCA for the amount your mother spent on her. Now what was it you forgot to tell me?”

“Brian said yes, but I said I’d have to ask you first before it was settled. You know Daddy just signed Manor House over to me? And we were going to live there, but close up most of the rooms because we don’t need that kind of space?”

Diana nodded as she returned to bed while still holding the purring Ballerina close.  The cat nuzzled Diana’s chin with her dark golden head.

“Brian wants to raise children, not just father them, but of course I wouldn’t give up my children, and even if I would, what kind of life would they have with a couple of doctors who work 60 hours a week minimum, if Ed comes back? So what if we make the Manor House a Bob-White house, and divide it into apartments for everyone? We can have common areas and do things together if we want. Even if Trixie and Jim want to rebuild Ten Acres, I’d think they’d be glad to live nearby during construction, wouldn’t you? And of course everybody should pay rent for the upkeep, but not nearly market price, just what it costs to keep the house running, so everyone can save money for their dreams. Daddy always said that the commute to the city wasn’t bad at all. Do you think everyone would agree? ”

Diana kissed Honey’s cheek while removing the tilting mug from Honey’s hands. “I think you’re making an amazing amount of sense for someone so drunk. It’s a wonderful idea, and I already said I have no problem with the commute. I can always take something to work on on the train. It will be a nice break in the day, actually, because I intend to throw myself into my work and build D Lynch Designs to the point that I can run it from Manor House. That’s when I’d like to have children—be the pregnant one, I mean. Won’t it be great for them to have someone at home all the time?”

Honey threw her arms around Diana, making Ballerina squawk and depart in a huff. “Oh, yes, yes, of course, Di! I don’t plan to work more than part time while the children are small, and after I finish my PA degree, I don’t see any reason to put off motherhood. If you agree? Brian says a clinic is opening on Glen Road, and I’m going to apply to work there—three days a week, maybe. I’ll be near Jim’s school, too. Oh, Di, it’s all working out so well, just when I thought the Bob-Whites were going their separate ways!” Honey reached for the notebook she kept on her nightstand. “It will mean major renovations on the house, of course. But promise me you’ll do our bedroom in these colors?”

 “I’ll do it in purple and orange if you want. Honey, don’t start planning now. You’ll be up half the night.”

Honey sighed and replaced her notebook. “I suppose I should wait until I know which Bob-Whites want to move in with us. Brian’s already applied to Sleepyside Hospital, and he said he’d join us in coming out to his family—I mean—you know what I mean—the day after Christmas too. After the Bob-White meeting, we can have a gay Bob-White meeting.”

Diana looked thoughtful. “He is? I hope Trixie and Jim do something nice and normo then, like announce their engagement. Because Mart said he’s coming out then too, when I told him we were. It might all be too much for Peter and Helen.”

Honey gasped. “Mart’s gay?”

“No, he’s ace.” 

“Ace.” Honey wore her polite, bemused smile.

“Asexual.” Diana put her arms around Honey and kissed her. “Oh, Honey, the hardest part of being with you is explaining everything.” She added a few more kisses to take away the sting.

With some dignity, Honey pulled away and said, “Well, okay, I didn't know what ace meant. But I know what a transexual is. Is anybody trans? I can do pronouns like anything.”

Diana kissed her again. “I don’t know, but the holidays haven’t started yet. Maybe you’ll get your chance, with Dan in a dress or Trixie with a crew cut. I’m sure you’ll be marvelous.”

“But Mart?”

“Yeah, Mart.” Diana sighed, almost a groan, and reached for Tangerine to hold. Like Ballerina, he nuzzled her chin. “When I transferred to State with the rest of you, I started dating Mart again, but I told him I didn’t want to drink ever again and I didn’t want to have sex with anyone for a year. It didn’t bother him at all. I should have known.”

“So should he!”

“He was still denying it. So a year goes by. And more. And I think I really ought to lift the ban, and I would, if he’d ever acted like he wanted to. And one night after finals he asks me to marry him. Which hits me like a ton of rocks, as I realize I just don’t want to be with any man ever, and I’m trying to find the words to explain—damn words again—when he says, ‘It’s me, isn’t it? You know.’ And he pours out his heart and soul and angst over not being like the other guys and his grand plan that ‘the most beautiful girl in the world’ would fix whatever was wrong with him.” Diana buried her face in Tangerine’s fur while Honey stroked her shoulder in sympathy.  Diana raised her head and wiped at her eyes with the sheet. “I must be allergic to this cat. Any way, I was so relieved, but I felt so bad for Mart…and Bob-Whites always help each other…so I tried. We did everything except rent animals from the zoo, and I don’t know who was happier to give it all up as a bad deal.”

Honey’s frozen smile was back, with widened eyes for a touch of horror. She whispered, “You can do that? With the zoo?”

“You’ve got enough money to know that most things are possible, but I don’t really know. Maybe the Humane Society would object?”

“And Mart came back to Sleepyside saying you two had broken up and he didn’t ever want to talk about it, and you were staying at college for the summer to make up some courses.”

“We weren’t graceful about breaking up,” Diana admitted, running a finger over the rose patterns on the sheets. “And you drove up from Sleepyside and brought me a dinner of Beef Bourguignon and a fruity little Merlot to cheer me up.”

“And you raised your face from your pillow, where you’d been crying all day, and said you couldn’t possibly drink it or you’d try to seduce me.” Honey traced a finger under Di’s eye.

“And you said ‘Why would you not?’ You poured a glass for yourself. Your hands were trembling so I thought you’d drop either the bottle or the glass. You took only three sips.”

“And here we are.”

“Yes. Here.”

After a long, tender kiss, Honey asked, “But with that history—you never told me before—would you want to live with Mart?”

Diana shrugged. “Mart and I are best of friends now that we’re not expecting each other to save us. In fact, you gave me a good idea: I’ll ask Mart to father my child. Or children, as the case may be. Then both Belden boys will be providing grandchildren.”

“But you said…can he do that?”

“He can, but he isn’t interested in the process.” Diana shook her head. “You’ve no idea what it’s like to be with someone who finds sex boring—I hope. I’m definitely going the turkey baster route with him. But can you live with Trixie?”

Honey smiled. “Oh sure. Trixie was my first crush, even when I didn’t want to call it that. I know I got pretty weird for a while, when I tried to convince myself that I liked all those guys we were meeting. But it’s so faded now, so far away, like a celebrity crush, you know?”

Diana tapped her forehead against Honey’s. “Jennifer.”

“Keira.” 

“Emma. Both of them!”

Honey put her arms around Diana’s neck and whispered in her ear, “And best of all, Elizabeth Taylor, age 20, with those lovely violet eyes. But what about you? You had a crush on Trixie too.”

Diana turned her head for a peck of a kiss. “Oh, yes. But that was even longer ago than yours. And my crush dwindled away when this new girl moved to town, the girl with the golden hair and the bee-yoo-tiful hazel eyes, a girl as sweet as her name. I so wished she’d fall in love with me.” Diana stroked Honey’s hair and wound a lock around her finger and kissed it.

“I wish I’d known,” whispered Honey.” About you and me both. I just knew I wasn’t as happy when you couldn’t come on our trips. I couldn’t wait to get back to you. And all the time you were making excuses not to go!”

“Not all the time…just when it got too painful, when I thought people couldn’t help noticing. I promise to never voluntarily stay away from you again.”

Such a promise demanded an even longer kiss, broken only when Diana whispered, “You’re not doing too badly with the parental expectations. You’re going to have children, have them with Brian, and even live with Brian.”

Honey whispered back, “And if you marry me, then I’ll have done everything they expect of me. Marriage, family, babies.”

Startled, Diana pulled out of the embrace. “Honey, really? You want to marry me? I’ve been so afraid you were just experimenting, that you would go back and marry Brian and never think of me again.”

“And I just turned down my last chance to do that. Of course I want to marry you! I’ve never been so happy in my life as with you.”

“But you’ve only been with Brian and me. Don’t you want more experience before you settle down? I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

Honey’s smile froze again. “You’re not going to make me call the zoo, are you?”

“I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to do. I just want you to be sure.”

“Well, what I want to do is get up early in the morning and go buy you the biggest, sparkliest, totally blingiest rock ever to flash in Trixie’s face.” Honey smacked a kiss on Diana’s lips.

“Well, you’re not, because I’m going to buy _you_ the biggest, sparkliest, totally blingiest rock ever, and we’ll flash them both in Trixie’s face.” 

Honey giggled, with an undercurrent of sobs. “Do you think…what do you think Trixie will say? I haven’t wanted to tell her because I couldn’t bear…” She leaned into Di’s shoulder again.

Diana stroked Honey’s hair. “That’s the price, isn’t it? We either stay far enough away from everyone that they never catch on about us. We hope. Or we come out, hoping we can all be as close as ever, which we can’t be while we’re living a lie. We’ve talked about this so much. Are you changing your mind? It doesn’t have to be now.”

Honey shook her head. “No. I want to tell everyone, and I want to start with Trixie. But I’m not feeling brave, especially after seeing what Brian was willing to do to stay in that closet. Trixie was so disappointed when I signed up for physician’s assistant training rather than being a detective, like we planned when we were kids. And she met the love of her life when she was thirteen. She’s always known who she wanted and what she wanted to do.”

Diana sighed and rubbed Honey’s back with one hand. “And her idea of going wild is to date a guy she met when she was fourteen!” 

Honey sat up straight. “She better not be dating Dan again. It breaks Jim’s heart every time she does. Do you think Dan’s back in the picture and that’s why they’re not married already?”

“They could be waiting for her to finish that internship in the detective’s office or for Jim to get things lined up for his school. And she’s dated Dan only twice. The second time was when Jim was out of state for his internship and he told her to date everybody she wanted. She did date Dan then, but when Jim came back, she went back to him, and they moved in your father’s beach house. You can’t she’s constantly running around on him.”

“I guess so. It’s just that he’s my brother, and I don’t want him hurt.” Honey’s phone chirped, and she picked it up. “Oh, Brian sent a text. Ed was waiting for him when he got back and everything’s wonderful, including living in Manor House; he’ll tell me all later.” Her eyes strayed to her notebook as she replaced her phone. She glanced at Diana, who was eyeing her sketch book. “Twenty minutes?”

“Set the timer,” said Diana, reaching to the nightstand.

Though they religiously put away their notebooks after twenty minutes, it was much later when they spooned together, drifting into sleep.

“I don’t want the morning to come,” Honey whispered. “Because everything’s so perfectly perfect in our dreams. Our parents and friends accept us and approve of everything, and we’ll all live happily ever after.”

Diana pulled her closer and whispered as her lips brushed Honey’s ear. “Whatever happens, this will be the best Christmas ever.”

***

Trixie loved lazing awake in the morning instead of jarring to attention at an alarm clock’s demand. First she heard the waves lapping at the beach. That being the only sound, she knew it was early; she didn’t have to crack her eyelids open to see the magic half-light between dawn and day. No gulls cawed this late in the year. She became aware of a hand brushing her curls upward and lips light on her neck, then traveling to her ear. With a happy sigh, she snuggled back into Jim’s spooning embrace. He wrapped his freckled arms tighter around her and gave a feather of a moan as her hips pushed against him. 

Trixie smiled as she wiggled her hips against Jim, to his delight, judging from the response. She leaned forward to put her arms around Dan and snuggle her head against his chest. Dan yawned and kissed the top of her head as he reached behind himself, flailing for the alarm clock.

“I could throw this thing away since I’ve got the best wakeup service ever.” He swung to a seated position as Trixie tried to pull him back down. He ruffled her blonde curls as he stood up. “I’ll leave you goats to it because I’ve got to get to work.”

Trixie turned to Jim, who gathered her in his arms and rolled her on top of him. Between kisses, Jim said, “I’ve got a meeting later this morning with a possible sponsor for the school, but I’ll let Dan have the shower first.”

She considered pushing both Dan and Jim into the shower and joining them, but decided to save that move for the weekend, when they wouldn’t risk being late. She settled for snuggling against Jim’s chest while admiring Dan’s lean, wiry body as he moved through the bathroom. He took his police fitness seriously. Jim, always the outdoorsman, was a different kind of buff, but equally fit, she thought with a happy sigh as she traced Jim’s freckles with one finger. She loved it that no matter who made love to whom that they usually ended up sleeping together, though Dan had his own bedroom and Jim’s office had a couch that folded out into a bed.

“Lunch, Trix?” called Dan.

“I’m filing some papers this morning and then joining Honey and Di for lunch,” she answered.

He returned to the doorway with a concerned expression. “I forgot today was the day. Are you really going to tell them? You’re ready?”

Trixie swallowed. She clutched Jim tighter as she said, “Yes. If we’re going to tell our families after Christmas, I need the support of my best friends. Or at least I need to know if I don’t have it.”

Jim tilted her chin up to drop a kiss on her nose. “You will. They’ve been your friends for ten years.”

“Are you sure?” Trixie’s voice quavered. “I mean, Honey went to college declaring that she was going to be a virgin when she married. And Di seems so icy these days.”

Jim slipped out from under Trixie and stood up. He too ruffled her curls. “I think Honey changed her mind. And I’d call Di sophisticated rather than icy, which she probably has to be, for her customers. They both still love you and us, I’m sure, however long it’s been since we got together.”

Trixie smiled up at him. Jim was always so reasonable that it was impossible for her not to be comforted. The bedroom was too cold without another body next to her; she pulled the blanket over her bare shoulders and basked in the sight of her two loves as they prepared for their day. After a few minutes’ indulgence, she leaped out of bed and into her robe and slippers. With a last fond look over her shoulder, she smiled at the bro slaps and snaps. I wonder if they’ll ever be attracted to each other and not just me, she thought. She wondered too if she would mind and decided that she wouldn’t, as long as they didn’t throw her out, which didn’t seem likely. Still smiling, she shuffled to the kitchen to start the coffee, the dark chicory roast that Dan loved, that Jim would cut in half with cream.

The evergreen scent of their Christmas tree tickled her nose as she passed through the living room. Jim had brought home a tiny live fir that he intended to plant at Ten Acres after Christmas. They made kindergarten-type ornaments: Dan, a tinfoil star that he stuck a few of the LED lights in; Jim, strings of popcorn and cranberries; Trixie, red felt Christmas symbols, including one with each of their photos labeled “Our First Christmas.” Six small, happily wrapped presents clustered under the tree. Whatever the holiday with their families turned into, they’d have their own Christmas first. 

She sighed, satisfied, as she started the coffee. At one time, it seemed like they would never get to this point. Jim, resolute about his children being born to married parents, was equally firm about honesty.

“I won’t live a lie and say you’re our roommate or lodger or something. If we’re a family, people can know we’re a family.”

“This isn’t Utah,” Dan retorted.

“And it wouldn’t be accepted in Utah,” said Trixie. “Do you want me to divorce Jim and marry you when you’re ready for children?”

Dan got that look on his face that scared Trixie, when he was reliving police horrors. He turned away to look out the window and said in a remote voice, “Every day when I leave for work, I know I might not come back. So I make sure to kiss you and make up any fights before I go. Sure, I’d like some kids named Mangan. Otherwise, I’m the last of the line. But we can take care of that in court. And it would be a comfort to me to know that if I didn’t come back, my kids would legally belong to Jim and Trixie Frayne, that they’ll still have two parents, and that you’ll still have each other. So, no, we don’t have to be married. I’d rather not.”

And being without Dan was so horrible to think about that Trixie said, “You’ll always come home. You’re transferring to Sleepyside Police Department, where you’ll spend your days writing speeding tickets for stupid teenagers and getting kittens out of trees.”

Dan replied, “But we’re not putting a notice in the _Sun_ that Mr. and Mrs. Belden announce the marriage of their daughter Beatrix to James Winthrop Frayne II and some New York street rat, any more than you’d announce that your parents prefer anal and spend their vacations at Club Med.”

“Do they?” squealed Trixie in chorus with Jim.

“How would I know? That’s what I’m saying: some things are private.”

And they were stuck there until someone had an idea—hard to say who now—that in the spring Jim and Trixie would get married and the three of them would have a commitment ceremony in front of their families and Bob-Whites. They would tell their families the day after Christmas and then the Bob-Whites, and those who were inclined to stand by them and stand up for then could do so.

And surely, thought Trixie, as she set out their mugs, some would do so. Surely they wouldn’t lose everyone.

The scrubbed, damp men entered the kitchen and took their stations, Jim at the griddle, flipping flapjacks, and Dan frying rashers of bacon from Sleepyside pigs. 

All too soon he was out the door, after a hug with Jim and a deep, long kiss with Trixie. Jim called over his shoulder as he returned to the bedroom to change into a suit, “Text me the address of this restaurant, and I’ll join you about 45 minutes in.”

“It’s an uptown deli, one of those hole-in-the walls that Honey finds. But you don’t have to. Surely I can tell my best friends how I’ve decided to live my life.”

Jim grinned at the crack in her voice, and Trixie answered him with a reluctant smile.

“You don’t have to,” he said. “And Honey is my sister. So I should be there.”

Trixie gave up pretending. “It’s scary, but I know you’re right. We need to be honest with our families and friends, at least so we can’t be blackmailed.”

“Mostly so that we give them the chance to know us as we really are.” Jim’s voice softened.

Trixie threw her arms around his neck, crumpling the tie he was trying to arrange. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you forever, Jim. I’ll never stop being grateful to you for getting the three of us together.”

Jim gave up on the tie and returned her hug until she squeaked. He released her and tugged a curl. “What was I supposed to do, with you saying you were miserable, missing me, when you were with him and miserable, missing him, when you were with me?”

Trixie cupped his face in her hands. Her voice squeaked with anxiety. “But it’s good for the both of you, isn’t it? I mean, you and Dan are always doing guy stuff, and you’re the only one who can bring him around when he sees all those horrible things on the job.”

“And you keep him on true north when he faces ethical dilemmas, sadly too many,” replied Jim, nuzzling her cheek. 

“I hope he doesn’t have so many on the Sleepyside force. But you’re happy to have him with us, aren’t you?”

“Of course. Stop worrying, Trixie. That’s my job. How could I be any happier, than to live with my love and best friend? Two best friends, actually.” 

Trixie let out a sigh of relief. “I thought so, but don’t stop telling me, okay?” She relaxed into his arms. “Gleeps, Jim! It will be so wonderful for our families and friends to know, no matter how they feel, so we don’t have to hide any more. Dan will transfer off these mean streets and find us all a place to live while we rebuild Ten Acres. In a few months, we’ll move back, and you can start building your school, I’ll open my detective agency, and we’ll get married—”

“And live happily ever after,” mumbled Jim into her hair.

Trixie hugged him with all her strength. “It’s going to be the best Christmas ever!”


End file.
